Terminus Part I: The Journey There (Draft)

Chapter 7: The No-Talent Chef

The leader of the Rough-House Pirates was a man named Barracuda. Through a concoction called eel soup, he was able to discover that his plans would succeed. Prior to this, James and two of his crewmates had entered a five-star restaurant and were looking through the menu cards. The time was two-twenty p.m. While they were doing this, Charleston entered the kitchen, where one of their best chefs happened to be working a shift. He would be working until four p.m.

"Hey, Persimmon, how's it going?" asked Charleston.

"As it always is. Why do you have to ask me that? You should know that I love this job, Charleston. Just like I know you'd much rather be an adventurer," said this cook.

"Then you also know I don't have the spirit for it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't change a thing."

"I guess you're right. In the end, it's my choice."

"And you made a bad one."

Charleston left because he wanted to be sure that he could drop the conversation first. Persimmon put his focus back on his cooking. He began to think to himself. I've told Charleston how many times? And still, he refuses to pursue his dream. He thought back to when he was still in school, the day he met Charleston. He was twelve years old.

"School is so dumb," said an obnoxious, well-built kid. "When I grow up, I'm gonna become a policeman so I can get rid of school."

"Policeman enforce the laws, they don't make them," said a skinny, quiet kid leaning against his locker.

"What did you say, loser? You don't get to tell a future cop what to do." The obnoxious kid held the skinny one up by his collar, and proceeded to threaten him.

That is when Persimmon walked by. "Hey, ass, put the nerd down," he said while walking by.

The obnoxious kid attempted to turn around and grab this new smart-mouth by the collar with his free hand, but Persimmon dodged and said "If you don't want to get your ass kicked, you had better stop being one and walk away."

"Who do you think you are, fish boy? I heard you hang with fishermen because you don't even have parents."

"Well, I tried to warned you." Persimmon swung his fist right into the obnoxious kid's stomach. He stepped back and began to realise that he was not untouchable. He ran off, and this prompted his friends to run after him.

"Thank you," said the skinny kid.

"Whatever. He's an ass."

"Wait, don't go."

"What do you want?"

"Can you be my friend?"

"Knock yourself out. Literally or figuratively, I don't care."

Persimmon and his new friend walked to class and talked.

"What's your name then?" asked Persimmon.

"My name is Charleston Abernathy."

"Uh, right. My name is Persimmon."

"Sounds fruity. What's your full name?"

"Don't have one. I was raised by merchants and fishermen so I don't have a real name."

"That's weird."

"Who was the ass that bullied you?"

"That was German. He wants to be a policeman when he grows up so he's always coming up with reasons for it. I think he has some other reason that he doesn't want to talk about."